This is a some sort of repost of an old story titled Disenchantment because I read the old version and I came to notice some mistakes it had, so I'll start from zero, it's been a long time and I don't remember what I wanted to achieve with all this so I'll fix and continue with a very different approaching and goal.
Warnings: SS/HP on a later slash SS/DM (whatever) LV/HP (the state of the relationship will be revealed later ) Harry: sarcastic dark bastard on the light side. He will have internal conflicts as to what side is the right one and so on, at the end he might end up backing Voldemort... I don't know yet... anyway probably lots of violence and dark themes :/
Summary: Harry grows up tainted by a book full of dark thoughts; he becomes the prefect solider but looses his grip on sanity after a certain event and ends up in Azkaban. Story begins with him being locked in his cell; he is confused so he tells his story to some unknown visitant (for now) because he doesn't know what he is anymore.
There is more on it, but cant write all in the summary now can I? XD
Author Notes First chapters will be only flashes hence the lack in detail, because the true story begins on the fourth year. Most of the fic is a flashback but I hope it won't be long till we return to the beginning.
Prologue
Steps echoed through the dark halls of Azkaban prison. An occasional whimper or two disrupted the marching sound but they were silent in compare. The absence of screams had everything to do with the mysterious owner of such a fatal noise; apparently his presence or something about him was enough to keep the Dementors away. Finally the steps ceased once he stopped in front of a cell that appeared eaten by darkness and with him the sound. An oppressing silence followed, all sensations swallowed up by the heavy atmosphere. A dying candle was expiring its last seconds of light, after a minute the only source of illumination sank into nothingness. And when it looked like all life had gone out with it, a voice spoke from within the cell.
"You here? What a delightful thing, what took you so long?" the voice was rough as if it hadn't been used for a long time or it had wear out for using it extend periods of time.
"You are very well guarded Mr. Potter, I had to wait for the correct moment to present itself" the other voice was heavy and low.
"Whatever… now the fact you are here isn't at all surprising, but I still can't figure out the why, care to enlighten me?"
"You gave quite a show yesterday, didn't knew you had it on you, I wonder what triggered that reaction, you mu—"
"Is that why you are here? You are wasting your time since I have nothing to say about the matter, go."
"Now there is no reason for you to be hostile, but you see even if you don't like it, that certain incident has moved things within the wizard society, and I'm very curious about everything. And especially everything that revolves around you." He trails off and the inquisitorial voice merged in a hum, after what seemed and hour but was perhaps a second he resumed "But the fact that you can't acknowledge the influence your actions had, makes me conclude that you are lost or blind, or both. Are you lost Mr. Potter? Are you wondering which path you most follow?"
"You know nothing, you don't even know me"
"Then lest fix that, perhaps a recount of your actions will help you find the way back or out, and they will make me understand you better."
"Way too long, no need for you to privy my personal matters, certainly don't want you to understand my mannerism" his speech had turned short and aggressive as defense mechanism.
"Time is no problem, and remember I'm on your side, I will make no profit out of it. Besides, I could help you out of your catatonic state with that information"
"There is no way out from this punishment, don't you get it?! I am forever doomed!" the raspy voice got into a new level of volume, making it sound very scary.
"We will find one, but first you need to clear your head"
Silence
"May I take that silence as a yes Mr. Potter?" another silence.
"Ok then lets start from the beginning, who are you Mr. Potter?" another silence, time kept going, and when it was clear the man wasn't going to get an answer he opened his mouth to speak but a sudden sound spring out of the cell.
"I am a hero" Harry began. "Not the old kind of hero who is of divine ancestry and favored by the gods, my luck actually is the Devil´s cocksucker, bad as everything related to the word… I am, at least on the outside, a person noted for feats of courage and nobility, one who has risked and sacrifice his entire being for a greater good." A pause.
"I am a martyr. Not the old kind of martyr who chooses death rather than renounce religious or any kind of principles, my moral is Death's personal whore, dirty as your conscience. I am, once again, at least on the outside, a person who has suffered way too much in order to defend the greater good…
… and as a fact, people believe in those two assumptions, like children who are being told, right after they have fallen and are there crying on the floor, that everything is going to be ok. But I know the truth, in order to be those things I, the hero, the martyr, have to believe in them too. And I don't because it was never my intention to save everyone, if it had depended on me the greater good could have gone and lick clean Voldemort's ass…
Guess you must be thinking now how nice it didn´t depend on me…"
"Not exactly Mr. Potter but why wouldn't you want retribution by killing The Dark Lord after all the harm he has done to you" The man inquired expecting another large answer.
"I don't care about it; and what is the point in saving all these people who only think of fornication and money? these monsters that have labeled themselves as magical thinking humans who are able to create magnificent spells but can´t solve their own emotional problems, and instead wear their nice robes, and think of how delightful is an orgasm, and discuss about stupid laws to get more money and power, and say nice things to their offspring hoping they wont be like them in the future. But the worst is that they deny their true nature…"
"I may take that as a personal offence Mr. Potter but for today I'll just let it pass. Another question has come to my mind, if I may why bother if you despise them so much, why fight for them?"
"Truthfully?"
"We re coming clean here, so yeah, truthfully."
"I was scared. Frightened of the tedium and boredom that, since the very moment I can remember, have been lurking around me like two vultures waiting for his meal to die in defeat. Saving them gave me purpose, and purpose is the only energy a walking carcass like me … or you… can consume in other to keep going through life's desolated swamps."
"Then what with the sudden outburst, what happened?"
"They brought my anger upon themselves, I gave my youth to them and they rape it, and when they were done, they spit on it. Still I was, am, okay with being a soldier really, everything was and is better than being the average young wizard or witch who only thinks in quidditch and hopes to be introduce by older students to sex, alcohol, and dancing. Those idiots. The key of my survival through the years at Hogwarts was to let it all flow; to accept them; build a wall between and pray I, unlike them, will always be honest to myself."
If possible, the atmosphere got heavier, tension replacing the air. The man waited, he knew that was not all. After a brief pause Harry went on.
"But like everyone, I had a weakness. I was starving for a soul to show me the land where dreams bloom like and flowers and come true in the fields of effort. My hunger blinded me. And I fall. I fall in joy. I fall in desire. I fall in love. I fall in regret. I fall in tears. I fall in hate. I fall in anguish and silence. I bloody FALL!...
…Unpredictably, even to me I succumbed to their pretty words and promises of love and affection and now I'm paying for my naïve actions. I thought he was different. He let me down. What a surprise. I knew I was searching in the dark for the invisible without a lantern but still… when I realized my mistake I did everything in my power to complete my task, and for doing my job I am here!" Silence took over once again and the man spoke.
"You know very well you stepped over the line, were you actually expecting them to ignore what you did?" The man transformed a piece of wood into a chair knowing very well it was going to be a long night.
"Yes, I thought all my school years were going to be taken into consideration, it was only a little slip."
"That little slip has cost you your freedom. I suspect you are aware of this, Mr. Potter, but I'll say it anyway; you know they know the effects battle has on you." Another pause, the man was aware that forcing an answer for that statement was risky, so he waited.
"I recognize I'm not so light" A snort from the man and a glare from Harry were the effects of that declaration "And that… I enjoyed the screams of an encounter; the effects adrenaline did to my body in a tight situation; the sensations waving around the battlefield, yes I love them so much, they are part of me, how could I not cherish them? But it was never my intention to cause pain to my companions, nor is it my sin, I am loyal to the Light and they can not see it! Why!?"
"Because you scared the shit out of them… but then, they have always been scared: at all times in the dark, never talking to anyone, you have never been their golden boy. All in all you were a creepy kid."
"I have been alone my entire life and I didn't need their pampering… when I met them I wasn't the ignorant child they expected to see, nor the kid starving for affection they thought I was, nor the different kind boy I wish I could had been…"
"True, why was that?"
"I love to read" that answer came very quickly.
"I think the entire wizarding world knows that"
"You don't understand, I have always loved to read… you can plainly see that my morals aren't based on my family or even the church… they are based on logic and emotions only books can provide; twisted morals coming from equally twisted authors who had a firm grasp of themselves, unlike me."
"What kind of books?"
"… The kind no child should read…"
Silence took over again, the man gave careful thought on what he had just heard, his curiosity turning unbearable and before he could stop the words, they were already filling the stillness.
"Tell me what you were thinking all those times your face was unreadable, tell me what you were doing when you were supposed to be in class, tell me who was the one that took your heart, tell me how he did it, tell me what drive you into such a state … tell me everything."
"Don't remember much. All is nonsense. Waste of time" Again turning defensive.
"I am willing to waste my time for you…" His eyes had grown accustomed to the dark and the tiny ray of moonlight breaking through a crack in the wall was enough to help him see the outline of a figure sitting in the middle of the cell. The figured began to move until it was standing tall in front of him, looking like a dementor itself. Hadn't he been aware the figure could do no harm he might, just might, had been a little tense.
"You think you are up to it just because you believe you are very much dark yourself? Is that so? You think you can take it? Maybe you can, but only because my narration wont be that detailed…very well Mr. but I warn you, you are going to find in the story all my poison-soaked memories, unless you bring a strong mental effort to your hearing, your soul shall be torn apart by the fangs and claws of the things to follow…"
"…I'm listening"
*
First years weren't at interesting, at all. The only thing you ought to know is that I was neglected, but not abused. And the only memorable event was that at the age of four I learned how to read. Months prior to this godly event the old neighbor discovered his eyes had no way to recover from a severe illness, and in anger he threw all his books to the garbage. I believe he was a professor of some sorts. He is now dead. Anyway I picked up only one book, the biggest; I didn't know which book it was. Obviously when I learned how to read I identified it; it was an anthology of poems, essays and novels written by the poète maudit. The best of them all in one big book.
And that book, that cursed book, became my bible.
I
The action begins on a shiny morning. The year, 1991…
"The garden must be done before midday, the Feltons are coming for lunch and everything must be perfect! So get out there and start!" Petunia's voice so high that I wondered how I wasn't deaft by then.
Perfect; her favorite word. While Vernon was watching me behind his little eyelids, I grabbed a piece of bread and an apple before heading outside, normally I would sit with them and have breakfast, but you see they were angry, as in very angry. The week before had been Dudley's birthday and they took him to the zoo. Me, being the ever present leech, dragged myself along because no one could look after me. Things happened at the reptile house, I talked to a snake, it talked back, and we chatted for a little while. Anyway making the long story short, I trapped Dudley in a cage, previously occupied by said snake, who in a sudden burst of magic, because there was no other way to call it, escaped through the vacancy once fill with glass and ran away, out of the vicinity… all in all… it was a good day…
Stepping into the garden, flowers of many kinds saluted me into their hellish paradise under the sun's heavy stare, they were pretty. Pretty flowers, every single flower there was pretty and I still can remember them and I still hate them. I hated that lawn, and I, above all, absolutely despised myself for being that unfortunate.
Not an hour had passed before a hoot made me turn away from my labor and musings. And what I saw next, was just absurd. I saw how an owl, flying towards the house, released a letter from its claw on a very precise timing, and I saw how the letter perfectly entered into the little slot in the door. Not even the best archer could have had such a fine aim, with the wind and stuff. And who was ancient enough to use an owl for a deliverer? Curiosity overwhelmed me, and all I could do was to run for the letter before anyone else discovered it. Softly, I opened the door and picked it up. I hid it in my baggy jeans and resumed my work. If I had read it there and then someone could have notice. Thankfully everyone was in their little world, consumed by their routine. Too busy to had watched my actions.
*
Midday day arrived, and with it the melodic voice of Petunia.
"Are you done boy? Feltons will arrive here at 2 o'clock and for your own good the garden must be finished before I step out of this kitchen." She warned from the window.
"Yes aunt Petunia, I have finished." I declared as she walked into the garden. She began examining every flower. I remember thinking how ironic it was that a putrid flower was judging pretty flowers.
"Very well, as I said the Feltons will be here in two hours. You have 20 minutes to take a bath, wash that mop you call hair, and be out of this house. Go to the park or somewhere else, but you better come back before sunset, grab the money I left on the table and use it if you get hungry." She whispered, smiling.
"Yes aunt petunia" I replied automatically and left.
**
Once in the famous park, I walked toward the swings and placed my being in one. I took the letter out of my pocket and read it.
After I was done, I just stare at the letter, Witchcraft and wizardry…I thought it had to be a joke…I began to chuckle, some kids who where playing right beside me stared at me with confused eyes, I began to laugh harder and they ran to their mommies.
When I finally calmed down I resume my staring. The logical thing was to categorize it as a very ingenious prank, and throw the letter into the garbage… but logic abandoned me and suddenly I knew it was true. Once I was running from Dudley and his friends and I somehow teleported myself to the roof. My hair, as much as petunia wanted it short and cut it till there was almost nothing in my head, continued to grow over night. Socks and sweaters I definitely didn't like, sometimes shrank to point only a doll could wear them. Not to mention the glass and my conversation with the snake.
Yes it was very ridiculous and very naïve to believe that letter, but because of the absurdity of my life, I found:
It was wholly credible, because it was unsound.
It was certain, because it was impossible.
And I believed it, because it was absurd...
like me…
***
That night I wrote a note saying I was assisting and that I needed some kind of evidence that proved everything, once I had finished I called the damn owl that was resting on the neighbors' roof.
The next day a giant named Hagrid came and convinced my aunt and uncle in a very… skillfully way that I should attended to Hogwarts he assisted me with my shopping and introduced me to magic… he also told me I was the most famous wizard for something I couldn't remember. I didn't like him, but he was ok I guess.
"Wont you buy an animal?" The giant inquired carrying all my bags after I had insisted I could very well take them myself.
"No, I don't like animals" I replied coldly
"Oh, too bad, fancy a hamburger?"
The truth was, I didn't want to grow attached to something.
****
I entered the train feeling somewhat nauseous, watching all the families saying goodbye to their offspring made me feel uneasy, I found an empty compartment and let myself in. I waited far too long for the bloody train to start and when it finally did, realization hit me hard on the face. I was a wizard; I was the one who lived. And I immediately recalled I hated attention. I had already read all my books, and the history book was my least favorite, especially the part of the dark Lord ad me vanquishing him. A knock at the door made me turned away from the window.
I opened the compartment finding a red haired boy outside.
"hello, everywhere else is full, may I" I stared right through him, he didn't looked pleasant enough, his shoulders were dropped, his face was dirty. He made me think of myself back in the early days so I just turned around.
"No problem I was leaving" He looked at me with big blue eyes, surprised.
"I don't me—" I picked up my bag and quickly interrupted him.
"You are not a bother, I just want fresh air" I eyed him one last time he was already seated. "Good luck" and with a big thump I closed the door and walked. I passed several wagons heading towards the last one and just when I was about to reached my destination a voice stopped me.
"They say the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter, is coming to Hogwarts this year!" a girl practically yelled, and I turn my head a little to look over my shoulder.
"Don't yell Pansy, your voice isn't as pleasant as you seem to think. I know, we must get him into Slytherin my father would be pleased if I were to befriend him" a blond boy replied very smugly, I immediately detest him, they were looking for trophies I wasn't going to let them collect me. According to what I had read, I took him for a Malfoy: blond hair and sickly pale; pureblood. That word implied a scale of racism worthy of Adolf Hitler. Such a waste of time. The ones who remain pure are bound to extinction, variety leads to progress: basic Darwinian rules, but well what did know about them, they probably didn't care.
I noticed he was looking at me so I resumed my walking; I opened the door and enter the next wagon, pass through it quickly and in no time I was standing in front of the last door. I opened it making way for the noise and wind to look inside a little. I stepped outside and closed the door. Not a second had passed before the door opened again, revealing the Malfoy boy in all his… glory
TBC